I’ve got everything I need! That was my neighbor in late December after I asked him if he had a building permit for the apartments he was adding to the back of his house. We bought our house in 2005 a few months before Katrina…
Derek Bridges lives in New Orleans, trading in words and pictures. A carpetbagger of long standing, he grew up in the top right corner of IL and later went to college in the middle cornfield part. He has also lived in MS and FL, for educational purposes only, and was diasporized for a time in TX.
AmericaGoneBad.com is a true-crime aggregation website that launched about a year ago. I contacted Rusty, the site’s author/publisher, and requested an interview, which we conducted by email. Rusty, as you will see, was reticent to reveal personal details, but I did get his last name…
B2L2 now publishes on a monthly schedule. New work will appear the second Monday of every month. Some B2L2 contributors will also post at Blog2L2.com, which will continue to publish continuously and also serve as the location where we will display the current slogan in our endless…
The National Hockey League lockout is over and after a week of training camp the new season will open. I checked around to see how NHL players felt the shortened season would affect their play. “The one thing that sticks out in my mind about…
Sloganza 10 from B2 L2 on Vimeo.
Sloganza 9. The Government Stole My Heart from B2 L2 on Vimeo.
New Orleans chessmaster Jude Acers is over in Greece right now competing in the Senior World Chess Championship. So far, so good. He’s won twice, lost once, and drawn once. He’s one tough dude, battling hard against a couple very highly rated players. His friend Charles Broome has been supplying brief updates over at JudeAcers.com, where I also upload game viewers so you can click through Jude’s games on a daily basis.
- Go to 29.959436,-90.060289 on Google Maps, click Street View, and you’ll find Jude‘s World Chess Table, where you can play him for $5 a game.
Sloganza 8: Rotational Velocity with a Twist from B2 L2 on Vimeo.
Sloganza 7 Our prices are insane from B2 L2 on Vimeo.
I’ve got a little series going over on the other channel called Mail Slot that features things I get in the mail from friends. What I got in the mail today I thought I’d share over here, given this is where I published a long profile of the sender:
This post first appeared April 4, 2008.
(photo credit: obLiterated)
Yesterday evening I saw a Chrysler convertible fly by on Carondolet Street with a human-sized Tweety Bird stuffed animal in the backseat. To say it was a giant Tweety would understate the case given the small stature of the Tweety Bird cartoon character to begin with, and proportionally, Tweety’s head, when scaled up like that, is like half a dozen or more human heads. So there Tweety sat in the middle of the backseat, giant head looming there. But as the car sped past, a large–not Tweety big, but bigger than a baby–Teddy Bear rolled off the trunk, flying off and finally bouncing to a stop in the middle of the street. I pulled over. Four, five cars passed, each in turn avoiding the Teddy Bear. I grabbed the Teddy Bear and found it looked almost new, not dirty at all, though it seemed to have some sort of voicemaker inside that wasn’t working or needed a new battery, but all in all, a fine Teddy Bear. It would’ve been wasteful to just leave the Teddy Bear to become just more trash at the side of the road, and certainly a child somewhere would love to have it. It wasn’t the sort of stuffed animal my daughter would like, but I took it with me, figuring I’d include it in our next Bridge House donation.
via Boing Boing
Note: This post originally appeared August 29, 2010. I thought it might be relevant to run again in light of the encroaching demise of the Times-Picayune.
We were supposed to have a garage sale on Sunday, August 28, 2005. We had recently moved into a house we bought in Central City and had cleaned out our old Broadmoor apartment and planned to sell the odds and ends that didn’t make it to our new home. It was to be the final hurrah of our move. Suffice to say we evacuated the night before and the garage sale never happened. I didn’t get back into town for another three weeks, but there on the second floor of our old apartment’s stoop was our last Times-Picayune, still in the plastic and dry. I tossed the paper in the car and drove back to Houston. I finally pulled that newspaper out of its plastic bag this weekend.